Spoken
by unfoldingbliss
Summary: He decided that he quite liked her smile. [M'gann/B'arzz drabbles]
1. Spoken

Their walk was…nice.

Besides Blue Beetle, she was the next person he sought out, although he wasn't too sure why. She was of his kind, sure, but his encounters with White Martians on Mars were infrequent at best. Not to mention she could be from a vastly different sector of the planet with its own set of cultural traditions and norms. Still, the Miss Martian was the closest he would come to home for quite some time, and for someone who had not been himself for over two years, her presence was rather welcoming.

It was a bit surprising, however, when she was the one to ask for him first. Their last talk had been over two months ago and he had_ lied_ and stolen her trust. Soon after, she'd been kidnapped and left her team to his merciless hands. Had she come to berate him? To scold him for misleading her comrades and preparing them for slaughter? He wouldn't mind; it would be justified, regardless.

"This Bludhaven is fascinating at night," he said, hands grabbing at his artificial jean pockets, "Don't you think?"

The Miss Martian turned and nodded, though he could tell the smile that came soon after was strained, "Yes, it is. It's more lowkey than Gotham or Metropolis, but I always thought the lights reflected well off the water."

"Taos is much smaller than this city," B'arzz said, trying to keep in pace with her slow, quiet steps, "There is no water and the city lights are far and few between, but…it is peaceful. I enjoy my home there."

She nodded again but did not reply, opting to take in the waterfront beside them. B'arzz averted his gaze, unsure of how to discuss what had occurred over the last few months, or how to apologize…

"You know, we can use telepathy if you like," she suggested, "I don't mind any more."

His eyes locked with hers, stare soft and inconspicuous. That was odd…she was asking for his permission yet again, despite his previous betrayal. Although tempted at the offer, he shook his head, grinning, "Honestly, it has been far too long since my voice has been my own. I would like to use it for the time being."

This time her smile, while small, was sincere and B'arzz couldn't help but feel his own widen in return. He decided that he quite liked her smile, "Okay then. Whatever you say."

"But speaking of telepathy," he shifted away from her, trailing his fingers across the metal railing, "I apologize for my violation of your trust and misleading you with the information I gave you. It - "

"I know it wasn't you," she finished his sentence, folding her hands into her waist, eyes glued to the concrete beneath them, "Nightwing explained what happened, to both you and Blue. You weren't yourself; the Reach controlled you, manipulated you to do their bidding. How could I be mad at you for that?"

"Still…" B'arzz said, feeling an uncharacteristic chill rush across his spine, "I cannot help but feel guilty, especially when it comes to you. The Reach took advantage of your internal struggle and conflict, and for that I must apologize…at least on behalf of them."

The giggle that escaped her was delayed by a few seconds, making the action seem awkward and out of place, but B'arzz decided he enjoyed that as well, "While I doubt the Reach will be apologizing to me anytime soon, I do forgive you, if that's what you need."

He tilted his head, confusion etched in his brows, "Then, if that is not what you wished to discuss, may I ask why you asked for my company tonight?"

Now it was her turn to step away from him, biting at the corner of her lips, "I…wanted to talk to someone, but not anyone on the team. A lot has happened over the last few weeks and…walking with a fellow Martian seemed like the perfect opportunity to clear my head. Before you showed up, I was in a real pickle."

Another pause thickened between as he mulled over her last words. Stress and hardship were breaking her, he could tell that much. Perhaps it would be wise to distract her…

"Not to take away from your troubles," B'arzz lifted a hand, his face further puzzled, "but what does that mean? To be in 'a real pickle?'"

"Oh, I'm sorry," M'gann sheepishly replied, "I forgot you're not familiar with the standard metaphors here. It means to be in a difficult situation, or when you're struggling with two opposing forces. It's like another phrase, 'between a rock and a hard place.' It comes from baseball."

"Ah, baseball," he smiled at the familiar term, "I recall watching a game or two on the transmissions a few years back. Most entertaining. I would like to watch a game live….when everything is handled with the Reach, that is. I believe it would be a worthy reward."

"Sounds fun," she nodded, leaning in closer than she had before, "Could I tag along? I find baseball games are _more_ entertaining when you have someone to share it with."

While surprised by her proposal, it was welcomed, and he didn't even question the warmth that spread across his shoulders and neck at her gentle words, "I would like that…very much."

"Then it's a d - day," she stuttered, clearing her throat before continuing on about other phrases common in America. He listened thoroughly, taking in everything she said and making a note to write it all down later. If he were to better fit in with the humans here, if he was to stay, this information would prove useful. And who better to tell him of such small and interesting wonders than a fellow Martian already acquainted?

He soon decided, as the night passed on, he much preferred the sound of her voice spoken than thought. It was a quite a joy to listen to.


	2. Doubt

"So, found anything yet?" M'gann asked from the other side of the table, flipping through the pages of yet another book of baby names she picked off the research shelf of the Public Bludhaven library.

B'arzz shook his head, trailing his finger under yet another name, eyes intently focused on the letters sprawled across the yellowed page, "I would like to find a name similar to my own, as it will be easier to shift between; like you and your uncle. However, I have yet to discover anything to satisfy my preferences."

"Hmmm, maybe we've been looking in the wrong books," she pondered, shutting the book when she came across the "C" category, "These names are mostly Caucasian-based and your human appearance takes after the Hispanic ethnicity like Jaime."

"Oh yes, my human appearance was based on the majority demographic in Taos," B'arzz explained, "I - the Reach believed it to be beneficial to have a similar appearance as Blue Beetle, in case we were ever to go on a covert mission of sorts."

"So…you didn't even get to pick your own human appearance?" M'gann frowned, "That's not fair."

"Ah, but neither does the rest of humanity," he pointed out, "Besides, I've…grown fond of this appearance. I would feel out of sorts if I were to change it now."

The white martian mulled over his words, nodding in understanding, "It _is_ your body. You have every right to do what you want with it."

"Yes…" he trailed, taking a long look at his hand before curling it into a fist, "Yes, it is."

"Anyway," M'gann bit at her lip as feebly tried to change the subject, sliding her chair over to the other side of the table with another book secure in her lap, "How about we try this one? It seems to have a variety of Spanish-based names. Most of them seem like they would be common in Mexico."

"Alright," he pulled his gaze away from his hand and towards the pages she flattened out in front of him. Figuring he would bother with nothing else, she immediately turned to the "B" category under the male section, leaning forward a little closer to turn the pages.

She didn't notice the way B'arzz tensed in his seat at her proximity, catching a whiff of her everyday, sweet pea body spray. It never crossed her mind how unnerving it might be for him, how he might be uncomfortable with the way she so casually pressed her face into his shoulder to get a better look at the small print. She had always been comfortable with touch, even with those she should be wary of at times. And he…well, she would only realize a little while later that when it regarded "attractive, single persons of the female gender," B'arzz could get a little antsy.

It really wouldn't stop her in the slightest, he would learn, "Let's see…names that start with B-A-R…"

"M'gann, I - I really appreciate your help, but would you be so kind as to -" but before he could request a distance between them, M'gann gasped, pointing to a line on the page.

"Look!" she exclaimed, her eyes seeming to take in all the lights throughout the study, "_Baruj_! It's almost too perfect - and it means 'blessed!' How neat! What do you think, B'arzz?"

"_Baruj_," he repeated, the name smoothly rolling off his tongue.

_Hmmm.._.he thought, taking in the excited young woman before him, her close proximity bothering him less and less by the second, _it would seem my human name was never my choice as well._

He chuckled, not catching the way M'gann's gaze softened at the sound, "It is most worthy, M'gann. I will take it."

"Great! Let's go back to the warehouse and celebrate!" she stood up, grabbing the green martian by the arm and flinging him upright, "How do you feel about ice cream? I have a delicious batch of cookies-and-cream back in the fridge, made with real oreos!"

"Ice cream is fine…" he trailed, trying his best to ignore the heat emitting off the skin she touched, "But what are oreos?"

The mischievous smirk was a surprise and unlike many times before, he was uncertain if it was welcomed, "The very best thing you'll ever taste, GB. _Ever_."

And after devouring a quart of the stuff, along with half a pack of oreos M'gann stashed underneath the floorboards, B'arzz made a note to never doubt the bright young woman (currently absorbing the scripted drama of a high school sitcom) beside him ever again.


	3. Somber

_There is no possible counter tactic for you to turn to, Ambassador,_ B'arzz didn't mean to sound smug (even if the likes of such a vile alien deserved it after experimenting on helpless children and taking advantage of their abusive environments), but there really was no where for the Ambassador to run and he had never felt so utterly relieved. This Miss Martian would soon discover the malicious plan the Reach had devised to get the Blue Beetle back on-mode. It pleased him so that a member of his own race would be the downfall of such wicked, thirsty people, _I am sure of it._

_Oh, never doubt me, minion,_ the voice resounding in his head practically snickered, catching B'arzz off-guard, _We have some very useful intel on this particular martian. She will be all too easily swayed to accept our side of the story_.

_Do not hurt her!_ he pleaded, desperate, _Scarab, please, she is of my kind. Assuredly you do not want to cause her pain!_

_We are of the Reach, B'arzz O'oomm_, his Scarab replied, its tone holding no hint of sympathy or regret, W_e serve the Reach and we will use whatever means necessary to assure their prosperity_.

_Excellent answer,_ the Ambassador said, _You should not wallow, Green Beetle. It is unbecoming_. _Embrace her part in our wondrous plan_!

"I'm not very comfortable with this," the Miss Martian said as she approached where he sat, her body tense and eyes wary, "Delving into your mind...i-it is, an intrusion."

She was scared to read his mind? But why would that be? Telepathy was an acceptable form of communication on Mars...and as long as she -

"You have my permission," the Ambassador spoke through him, staying as calm as ever, "We must be able to trust each other."

And then, the Ambassador pasted the widest smile on his face and B'arzz cringed along with the Miss Martian,_ I am not that ignorant of their customs to realize this smile is certainly unacceptable, Ambassador_!

"Does my smile...displease?" the Ambassador tried to diffuse her discomfort, apparently considering B'arzz's outburst, "Is this not how humans convey friendship and put each other at ease?"

The martian before him remained unmoved as her comrades debated whether this tactic would prove to be effective...and something about "martian etiquette."

_Please, read my mind_, he looked to the Miss Martian, hoping somehow she could perhaps feel his frantic want radiating off his armor, _Don't be afraid. I promise it is all for the better_.

_Your efforts are futile as always, Green Beetle_, the Ambassador snipped, _Even one of your own cannot hear your struggles, no matter how hard you pra_y.

Soon, the Atlantean known as Lagoon Boy came forward and encouraged the martian, calling her angelfish and telling her reading his mind would be a "piece of crab cake." While B'arzz had no idea what that was supposed to mean, Miss Martian's eyes flickered back towards him and the Ambassador made another attempt, "Please, proceed with the mind link."

The Lagoon Boy left her side and she shut her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Her eyes slowly opened as she exhaled. A moment later, the whole of her eyes lit a bright green. Soon, B'arzz's own eyes brightened into a deep red and the oncoming rush of Miss Martian's presence sent his mind in a dizzy tingle.

_Link established_, she said and despite the circumstances, B'arzz could not help but welcome her soft, feminine voice (as he had only the Scarab and Ambassador to listen to for the past few years).

But he couldn't focus on her voice for much longer, for as she entered his mind, the Scarab and the Ambassador went on to actively investigate hers. Images of her childhood on Mars, of her true appearance and deep-seated insecurities unsettled B'arzz and an uncharacteristic growl escaped him, _This is despicable, Ambassador! There is no need to seek out and exploit her pain_!

But the Ambassador ignored him and continued on with his plan, _Ah, so you a White Martian. You came to Earth in order to pass as Green. That must have been difficult_.

The young woman, who B'arzz now knew as M'gann, stumbled upon her words, obviously flustered by his quick work, _I-I'm supposed to be reading you_.

_But your reluctance to probe deeper is clear,_ the Ambassador continued on, sounding_ ever_ understanding and concerned for the martian, _You hide the specifics, but I sense you have recently had a most negative experience during a hostile mind link_.

It was then her eyes widened, although her face remained placid while her mind quavered with a creeping fear.

_So, allow me to.._.the Ambassador trailed, shrugging Green Beetle's shoulders, ..._volunteer my thoughts._ _In this way, you can be sure nothing so unfortunate will occur_.

_Do not trust him, M'gann_! B'arzz begged, his voice louder than it had ever been since his capacity, _Do not fall for it! He is luring you into a trap, taking advantage of your circumstance_!

He was so sure that she could feel him, the way she looked so averse to proceed further, wavering between trust and doubt. Still, his hopes were dashed when she nodded and allowed the Ambassador to pass along selective memories of his time after the Scarab attached to his spine on his last archeological expedition. Everything from the Reach and their control over him was omitted and no matter how much B'arzz pleaded for her to not believe the misdirections, she accepted the Ambassador's side of the story whole-heartedly, suspicion never arising.

After the last of the memories were played out, M'gann's eyes returned to their normal shade and she turned to her teammates, declaring, "Green Beetle is on our side."

_Do not mourn what has occurred,_ the Ambassador told him after a few moments, the smug tone washing over B'arzz in spades, _Besides, she is not really of your kind, now is she_?

_I do not believe..._ he trailed, somberly looking to M'gann as she conversed with the others of what she had witnessed, _I could ever hate someone more as I do right now_.


	4. High

It might have been cliche to say, but the chemistry between them...it was just _there_.

She initially believed he had to be reading her mind somehow, with the way he moved his fingers against her skin and muscles like he'd done so a thousand times before. When he threw his lips into the mix, pressing short, searing kisses into her neck and shoulders, it thrilled her, eliciting soft moans into the sheets. He swore up and down that he never ventured into her conscious, awake or otherwise; insisting through bright red cheeks that he just enjoyed exploring her body and finding new ways to satisfy her. She gave into his explanations eventually, remembering his promise months ago to never read her mind unless through consent.

Still, she had to wonder how he could cause such staggering reactions through the simplest of gestures. A firm hold on her waist, a traced circle on the small of her back, a push to the right...they all led up to a cascading bliss pounding into her veins by the end of his exploration. She couldn't help but arch her back when the the intoxicating sensations hit, pushing her body as close to his as possible, clasping her arms tight around his neck while the release of the building pressure flooded her with buzzing euphoria. Every time, there was something different, something that drove her over the edge moreso than she had previously imagined. Just the thought of any new trick he learned had her riveting, _anticipating_ what was to come time and time again.

However, she made sure he received his fill of delight as they continued through their bouts of intimacy. It was always a cute sight to behold, watching him grow more and more flustered with a nibble at his skin here or the drawn-out stroke of her palm there. He would ultimately give into the swarming heat, letting her hands and tongue linger wherever she so desired. The way his face twisted into yearning, breath erratic and groans low and quiet...sometimes it could please her more than the actual climax itself. It was especially fun to see him clutch the sheets in fistfuls of expectation, holding out as best as he could as she approached her peak.

When it was all over, the smell of want and adoration hanging in the air, he would squeeze her waist and interlace their legs together, kissing the back of her neck one last time before whispering sweet nothings into her hair. She would hum a declaration of love in response, eyes laden with the need for slumber. Soon, they both would fall prey to sleep, remaining in the same intimate position until morning.

It was a high she would never be able to get enough of. And she was pretty sure that was a _very_ good thing.


	5. Fought

"So what do you want to watch?" M'gann asked, plopping down onto the couch with a plastic bowl of ice cream in hand, "You have free reign of the TV tonight."

"That is just because it is a Saturday," B'arzz smiled as he flipped through the TV guide. M'gann nestled her head into his shoulder, taking a spoonful of her frozen cookies-and-cream and pressing it close to his mouth.

"Eat up or it's going to melt," she said, wiggling the spoon back and forth.

"You do remember I am quite terrible at multi- oomph!" the rest of his words were cut off by the spoon being hurled into his mouth and his girlfriend laughed (_laughed_) as he swallowed the delicious substance down, chilling his throat.

"Of course I do," she nodded, still in a giggling fit, noticing the spoon was still stuck to the roof of his tongue, "That's why I have to remind you every now and again that you ordered a giant sundae from the parlor down the road and it's going to be ruined by the time you find something to watch."

"But there are so many more channels here!" B'arzz exclaimed, taking the spoon out of his mouth and handing it back to M'gann, "Your uncle could not send back all transmissions, but I could never imagine I was missing out on so much quality information and programming."

"Please, Uncle J'onn sends the very best stuff," M'gann waved off, "It's just stuff like _Teen Wolf_ doesn't seem to be the most educational show on earth, now does it?"

"…That is an exception," B'arzz replied, turning away to look at the TV guide yet again, "I enjoy the characters very much. They remind me of your and Jaime's friends."

"Oh?" M'gann knitted her eyebrows in curiosity, pushing her body closer into his, "And who in the show reminds you of us?"

"Of us?" B'arzz repeated, his eyes still very much focused on the screen and not at all on the free hand tracing circles against his thighs, "I do not believe we have an equivalent on that show. But others…."

His voice faded as he realized just how close M'gann's hands were lingering now and he knew a decision had to be made soon. One that revolved around spilled, melted ice cream on the carpet and the complete loss of his one free TV night.

"Really?" M'gann fluttered her eyes, lips appearing more tantalizing by the second, "Tell me more."

TV and ice cream fought. M'gann and her touch won.


	6. Routine

Waking up in the morning had always been mundane and simple for B'arzz.

He'd pull off the sheets, take a shower, shift into some clothes, eat breakfast, and then walk on over to the labs to help out with whatever Dr. Dorado or Dr. Strange needed assistance with (they were giving him ample pay to stay in Taos, after all). Mornings had been, for lack of a better word, _boring_ and B'arzz had never quite been able to empathize with those who tossed and turned, dreading the very second they would have to roll out of bed to begin their day.

That was until M'gann started staying over.

They would often go to bed with his arms wrapped around her waist, his long legs intertwined with hers and the thin white sheets. He reveled in the warmth that she emitted and the soft beat of her heart drumming against his chest. The smell of her hair and the feel of her skin were intoxicating and often soothed him whenever he was stressed out from the labs or patrols. Sometimes, he would hold her a little too tight, afraid she might vanish somehow and that the nights beforehand had all been some beautiful, illusive dream. There was no denying that she enjoyed his touch just as much, however, pushing her back into his as close as possible, insisting his hands stay pressed to her stomach and his legs interlaced with hers.

Then, the morning would come. B'arzz would open his eyes as soft sunlight draped into the bedroom, catching the scent of sweet peas and soap right underneath his nose. The feel of M'gann against him was all too comfortable, his body weak and heavy, demanding he rest more and relish the woman sleeping beside him. It was so very difficult to unlock his legs around hers, to unwrap his arm around her waist, to place a kiss into her hair as a quick apology before he scurried out of the bed and into the shower, washing away all the sleep and want out of his skin.

And as B'arzz continued on with the morning routine that had once been so banal and straightforward, all he could think about was of the coming night, when he could hold M'gann and touch her and kiss her in ways no other man could.


End file.
